Blood Lug
by spitfire00
Summary: Edward suffers from a massive hemorrhage late one night while walking to the dorms. The team scrambles to save him.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: It's been a few months since I've posted anything and now I am back! It is 4:27 AM right now, so I am sorry if this is a total hot mess. Any mistakes will be changed as I come across them, and please forgive any dreadfully awkward parts.I will fix them.**

 **This will be a multi chapter fic! This is only the beginning, and the rest of the chapters will be much longer, I promise. I was just really excited to get this started and up for people to see.**

 **I do not own these characters.**

There was something harrowing about the sound of Edward's struggle to breath. He had never predicted himself to be in this situation, thus he never thought about how much his subordinate's pain would debilitate him. He stared down the road, as if his look alone could fabricate the car he had ordered for would just magically appear. He tried to listen to the rustle of Havoc moving around next to him. He tried to focus on anything other than the gurgling coming from Edward's throat.

His efforts proved completely useless, because a moment later and the child in his lap was starting to writhe and twist in his arms. He tightened his hold automatically as Edward choked, his whole body convulsing from the force of his lungs contracting. Hot blood spilled down onto Mustang's gloved hands that were wrapped around the boy's middle, and Roy immediately shuffles, trying to make it back onto his knees where he would be able to hold Ed up better.

"Fuck- Fuck- it's in his lungs. He's gonna choke on it." Havoc is kneeling in front of them, and he grabs Ed from under the armpits and hauls him into a more vertical position like the kid weighs nothing at all. Edward makes a gagging noise before Roy hears blood splatter on the cement in front of them. He's kneeling now too, holding the boy against his chest to keep him up. His head lolls forward limply, but Havoc seems certain that he is not unconscious.

"Did he even say he was hit? Or in pain?" The lieutenant's words are breathless as he wrestles with Edward's shirt, trying to see his stomach and chest on the dimly lit sidewalk. The hemorrhage had to be centered around there if blood was filling Ed's lungs. Mustang moved his hold on the boy so Havoc could have a better look. Edward was still squirming loosely, but he was slowing down. His breaths were quick and spastic, as if he had just finished running a marathon.

"He didn't say anything." Mustang's reply is clipped as he tries to keep Edward from suffocating on his own blood. Ed's legs were sprawled out in front of him, his back pressed flushed against the Colonel's chest. His body was rigid in misery.

"Oh jeez-" the lieutenant breathed. Mustang assumed he had found whatever was causing the hemorrhage, and he looked up sharply before deciding that whatever information Havoc would give him would not help save Ed's life. They couldn't stop any bleed that was on the inside anyway, so Roy tightened his grip and looked at the limp and sweaty neck of his subordinate. Edward's eyes were open, squinting at the bricks they were kneeling on, and a trail of blood and spit was oozing from his mouth and onto the ground. He wasn't vomiting anymore, so Roy used one hand to pull the boy's head back to rest on his shoulder, rather than hang lifelessly. Edward had closed his eyes at the motion, a puff of air leaving his lips before he opened his mouth to breath heavily again.

"Take it easy. The car is coming." Mustang murmured.

Roy tried to ignore how each of the boy's muscles slowly loosened, and he found his thumb running over the spot where he held Edward up and vertical. Havoc squatted in front of them, one hand wrapped around Ed's wrist where he could have constant contact with his pulse, in case the boy's heart were to give out without their notice.

The squeal of rubber alerted them that Falman had arrived with the car. The officer hopped the curb as he barreled to a stop merely feet away, and Roy found himself grateful for Hawkeye's insistence that they familiarize themselves with driving at high speeds. Between the Colonel and the Lieutenant, they have Edward loaded into the car in seconds. It takes some maneuvering, but Havoc manages to squeeze his tall frame into the backseat where he resumes his silent watch on Ed's heart.

St. Jane's Hospital is not far, but in the six minutes and forty three seconds it takes to get there, Edward vomits twice and Havoc starts cursing so vehemently that Roy doesn't think he's heard such words since his days back in boot camp. When they screech into the ambulance bay, the lieutenant does not wait for Roy or Falman to assist him, merely drags the boy out by his armpits and cradles him in such a way that allows him to run to the hospital's doors in a sprint Roy didn't know the man capable of. Mustang is only steps behind, yet by the time he makes it inside Ed is already on a gurney and surrounded by a swarm of scrubs. Havoc has been pushed to the side, and suddenly the swarm is moving away from them, but Roy does not budge. He's glued to the ground by his inability to process the events that had just occurred. After a few seconds that feel like an eternity, he swipes his hand across his face, feet faltering and finally he is freed. Havoc is staring at him, uniform splattered with dark blots of blood. Falman is there too, but does not act.

The three men watch each other silently while the low roar of hospital activity goes on around them, and then they're moving all at once, headed out of the main area where they can hear each other. Mustang leads them to a secluded hallway, talking before he even gets a chance to face them.

"Falman, alert the rest of the team. I want twenty-four hour security shifts set up. The Triades are still at large. I will not give them the chance to off one of my men while we scramble."

Havoc's body language shifts from urgent to violent in a millisecond at the mention of the Triades. The team had raided their drug boats earlier in the day, and the thieves had put up more of fight than the Colonel had been predicting, resulting in some nasty hand to hand combat that was worthy of the movie screens. Breda had been forced to stand by as Edward took on three guys at once, his shot at the thieves ruined by their close proximity to Ed. Everything had been so chaotic that when no obvious wounds had shown up on anyone, they patted themselves on the back and continued processing the scene. Four men had managed to escape by jumping overboard, and a man hunt was being conducted to find them, but they had connections all over the city. The Triades had been known to kill off officers to show their strength, and while Roy is fairly confident that the remaining criminals will lie low, he is absolutely not risking it.

"Havoc, go wrestle in as close to wherever they have Fullmetal as you can. I want someone near by at all times. Someone will relive you in less than an hour." Havoc does not seem disgruntled by the order, but instead salutes and jogs off to find the nearest nurse he can flash his rank at. Falman has already disappeared to find a phone, and Mustang finds himself alone.

The blood had long since cooled, and the Colonel could feel the chill seeping through his jacket and gloves. There was something completely loathsome in the idea, Edward's blood turning cold and useless.

Edward's blood.

He needs Riza. Surely Falman will call her, but Roy cannot wait. It takes him a few minutes to find a phone, and before he realizes that he's already dialed and payed, she's answering.

At first he's confused by the slight slur in her voice before it dawns on him that they had all been walking to the dorms when Edward had collapsed. They'd been turning in for the night, and that had been an hour ago. One glance at he clock confirmed it was past midnight.

"I need you to come to St. Jane's."

"Colonel,-'" There's a pause, followed by rustling and a faint click of a lamp being turned on. "I'm on my way."

An hour later and there isn't anything to do but wait. Havoc had asked to not sub out, saying he had too much energy and would rather stand watch outside the OR. The team wasn't required to come, but Breda was already in the cafeteria with Fuery and Falman. Mustang had found the closest hallway to the surgery ward that was assailable and sat, Riza by his side.

And the night dragged on.

 **Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** **So I was planning on posting this quickly after the first chapter, but I only just now finished. It's super short which I apologize about. I've found that I struggle to write longer pieces. I have ideas for long stories, but I never write them. If you find any mistakes, feel free to comment and I will fix them. If you have any questions or are curious about something, just message me and I'll answer. It's 5 AM here so Now it's time to sleep. Constructive criticism is welcome!**

Something always went wrong on Hughes' day off.

Always.

Last month the heater had gone out halfway through his first nap in _years_ , resulting in a three hour battle against the stupid thing in the freezing basement. The time before that, his precious daughter had fallen ill with the seasonal flu, and she was not feeling up to do much other than sleep and curl up in her parent's lap. Several other instances tied in with his vacation time included blizzards, broken shower heads, and Sheska calling to ask for advice on a case he had not assigned her yet.

With his incredible track record, you would think he would be expecting a phone call at two in the morning with horrible news, but the shrill ringing of the bedside phone still scared the ever loving shit out of him.

Maes shot up into a sitting position and only flailed for a second or two before his mind finally caught up with his body and he answered the phone.

"Hello?-"

"Hughes," Thankfully, Maes had come to recognize Roy Mustang's voice no matter his state of wakefulness, and one glance at the clock on his bed stand told him that Roy's news must be pretty damn important if the man was awake at two AM.

"Roy, what is it?" Hughes felt his wife shift besides him, and he grimaced. He didn't want to wake her. She needed her sleep. She had been talking about the errands she was going to have to wake up for, and their roles would be switched, with her waking up before him for once. "One second, I'm going to move to the kitchen." He didn't wait for his friend's response, merely set the phone down, careful not to accidentally hang up. He slid out from under the warmth of the quilt and padded out of the room and down the main stairs, glancing at Elysia's room as he went. He almost didn't bother with turning on the kitchen light, but he didn't know what Roy needed, so he figured he ought to.

"Okay, what's up?" He could hear a a noisy din in the background on Roy's side, and he thought he heard Riza speaking nearby as well. The phone crackled and shifted hands before Roy' voice finally came through.

"Maes?"

"I'm here. Didn't want to wake the whole house."

"You heard about the Triades right?"

This was not exactly a topic Maes wanted to discuss at two in the morning, but Roy sounded exhausted, and now he could hear Breda's voice as well.

"My division was assigned the case. Mark said the General office was too overwhelmed, so the search got dumped on Investigations. Maria called me this morning, but it's my day off, so I didn't go in. Sounded like a normal hunt, Armstong can handle that."

There was a faint rustling on the other end, and Maes waited patiently while Roy seemed to be talking to someone else.

Finally, "We arrested three of their men this morning on one of their drug boats, the four that escaped are still causing problems. We're stationed at the hospital right now. At first there were no apparent injuries, but Edward collapsed on the walk to the dorms." Maes felt his stomach churn rapidly at the news. It was the same feeling he had gotten when he witnessed Roy get shot in Ishval.

"Is he okay?"

"They took him back into surgery. I think he was in the ICU for a little bit, but they couldn't wait any longer I guess. No one will tell us a damn thing. The marathon on the West Bank knocked out a ton of people. It's a freakin' mad house here. Beds in the hall, shortage of nurses, it's a damn mess-"

Maes had completely forgotten about the marathon. It tended to fill up the hospitals with heatstroke and other heat related injuries. It always reminded him of a circus, and he was grateful that the local MP had to deal with that mess, and not the military. Roy sounded very close to strangling someone, and Maes certainly couldn't blame him.

"Wait, why did Ed collapse? What's the surgery for?"

"He had a massive internal hemorrhage and he didn't even know it. I don't know much more than that, it's only been two hours. I need to barrow some men. The ladies at Central Command wouldn't patch me through to the night shift. We've got tight security on the inside, but I need to send out Hawkeye, Falman, and I'm not wiling to leave that East wing open."

"What hospital?"

"St. Jane's."

"Maria and Brosh are my closest on call. I'll wake them up. Captain Whu's men are in that sector too. They can cover the external exits."

"Will you-?

"I'll get dressed. I can assist the man hunt."

"Thanks Maes."

"Sure thing. You call the second you get any information about Edward. I'll be on Corporal Lin's line."

"Got it."

He kissed his day off goodbye.

"They managed to clear out that waiting room, Sir." Second Lieutenant Breda's face was shining with perspiration, and he panted slightly from the run up from the third floor. His salute wasn't as pristine as Roy usually demanded, but he let it slide as he hung up the rotor phone on the wall. Three women rushed past him and down the hall towards the North wing, and Riza slipped closer to him to let them pass.

"Good. Tell Fuery and Falman to meet me there."

As Breda dashed off, Roy ran a hand over his face, allowing himself a moment to reflect now that he was alone. Well, mostly alone.

No news was good news right?

Though he wasn't entirely sure that applied at hospitals.

Riza shifted next to him, and he nodded once. There was too much work to do to be standing around. The nurses knew where to find them, and they had a decent place to set up base for their security. Once they arrived to their makeshift HQ, Mustang wasn't surprised to see Fuery already installing the anti-tapping devices onto the room's phone.

"Hawkeye, take Falman back to Central Command and pick up extra armor and ammo from the armory. Sergeant Will should let you pass, I already filled out the form." Riza went over to Fuery and set down the case containing Roy's extra gloves with a look to the Sergeant who nodded back. Colonel babysitting duty had switched.

"Breda, go find Havoc and tell him to find out what the hell is happening with Edward, then relieve him of watch."

One glace at the clock told him it was two-thirty, and Roy immediately decided that he would not be doing anything else until he had made himself a cup or four of awful hospital coffee.

It wasn't until four-forty that he finally received information on Edward's condition. He'd been on the phone with Captain Whu when Ed's physician tracked him down. The man was short, maybe even shorter than Edward himself, and packed with muscle. He had ginger hair tied back at the base of his skull and wore glasses that looked seconds away from falling off his nose. The man introduced himself as Doctor Roshsmith, and was quick with introductions.

"Colonel Mustang it was? I'm sorry I can't talk long, I just got called in to assist a different surgery, but I will explain all I can in the time allowed."

There was something disarming about the way the doctor spoke, professionally but still caring enough that even though Roy knew he was being brushed off, it didn't totally feel like it.

"Edward suffered from a pulmonary hemorrhage caused by blunt trauma to the chest wall. Basically, blood filled his lungs in such a way that it did not drown him, but did limit oxygen to his brain until he collapsed as your subordinate said. We did an invasive surgery to implant a chest tube and pump to drain the blood out so he can breath again. Unfortunately while he had him stationed in the ICU, the bleed worsened and we had to take him back into surgery to mend the wound. Normally this wouldn't have taken so long, but he is having a negative reaction to the anesthesia and Oxycodone. We're switching painkillers now, but there will be a period were the dosage is very low to nonexistent while we flush it before we can administer anything else to help with the pain." Roy hated the way the everything the doctor said sounded, especially the last bit. He obviously didn't want Edward in pain, but Roy would bet his year's salary that Ed also had some nasty PTSD, and being under watch in the hospital without painkillers was going to make the next few hours extremely difficult.

Also, Edward tended to become combative while in the hospital, and if he didn't have some sort of sedative painkiller to keep him down, Roy worried that the kid would accidentally yank out his own chest tube.

"We're administering half a pint of O negative through IV as we speak, and the nurses should have him set up in the ICU again in a few minutes. We actually managed to score him a room, so your security team may have an easier time. I've ordered not to let any nurses in the room that are not cleared by me first." Roy felt sightly better that Ed's doctor was cooperating with them. He had dealt with plenty physicians who would do anything to keep control on their hospital, even if that meant disregarding the military's demands.

The PA system came on and requested Roshsmith in OR room three.

"I've really got to go. Edward should be awake when you see him. Don't rile him up. We've got him on heart strengtheners but it's still beating pretty weak and I'll remove visiting rights if there are any problems. It was nice to meet you Colonel." The man spoke so fast that when he stuck out his hand Roy found himself instinctively shaking it, and just like that the Doctor was jogging down the hall and shouting for someone to hold the elevator doors.

He figured he'd better call Hughes.

 **Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

Its Mustang and Breda who get to lay eyes on Edward first. His room is compact, a bed, two chairs, monitoring equipment, and medical material are packed into a small cube complete with pastel walls and splotted tile. Pale sunlight was fighting to filter in through the blinds as the sun finally rose, casting a vague bluish light throughout the cramped room and onto Ed's ghostly form. He was splayed out on the bed, metal limbs tangled in the sheets or pinned between the mattress and the raised safety bars. The bed sinks around his weight and looks like it could swallow him, but the pillows prop him up enough to breathe.

Breda lingered by the door, hesitant to enter when he was supposed to guard the hall, but unable to look away from his youngest teammate. Roy moved forward, stepping up to the bed where Edward was shivering, eyes closed though he showed no signs of sleep. They'd dressed him in a hospital gown, but it's become untied and fallen past his shoulders, revealing thick bandages and yellow tinted tubes that led to blood collection bags on the floor. His skin is wan and sickly grey, his lips too pale and his cheeks flushed with fever from the medicine. His hair had almost completely fallen out of its braid, sticking to his sweaty cheeks and flayed out onto the pillow messily.

The lack of pain medication and the side effects from the oxycodone had left him a mess, delirious and dazed. He had goosebumps on his skin from the chill but had kicked all his blankets to the floor at some point, and he shook minutely as he kept his eyes squeezed fiercely closed and his hands clenching the sheets beneath him.

It was absolutely not going to do.

"Breda, go find a nurse, or a doctor if you can." Roy demanded, not bothering to look and see if the other man did as he was told as he swept down to the floor and gathered the discarded blankets. Edward's eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice, but there was little recognition in them, which unsettled Roy more than he was willing to consider. Glazed golden orbs tracked his every movement as he tossed the blankets into a linens hamper and opened the room's closest in search for new blankets. When he returned to the bed Ed seemed to have finally grasped who he was. "Colonel?"

"Yep." He confirmed as he jerked on the sheets trapped beneath the kid's leg. "Help me out here." Ed blinked at him for a moment before his eyes shifted to his leg and it raised a centimeter, shaking from the exertion but enough that Roy was able to tug the sheet loose. He tossed it over the boy and then unfolded two cotton blankets, tossing them over the sheet as well and watched as Ed's shivering reduced drastically with new warmth. He let out a tiny sigh and his flesh hand snuck beneath the covers and yanked them up to his chin. "Where's Al?" His voice was barely audible, cracked and dry. When he spoke dried specks of blood flecked off of his lips and Roy could see his teeth were browned with dried blood.

"We called him. He's coming in from Dublith now." Roy murmured, pulling a chair closer to the bed and sitting down in it heavily.

Before he had a the chance to speak again, Breda returned with a nurse in tow. Roy stood to meet them and moved the conversation out to the hallway away from where Edward's wandering eyes could follow them. It takes far too long to make the nurse understand what the problem is- that Edward was suffering and needed relief and attention. He's too fed up and frustrated to use his normal charm, but gets the job done through superior intimidation tactics anyway. The nurse scampers off to get Ed better care, and he reenters the room.

It appeared that Edward was trying to doze off, his eyes closed and breathing slow even as his muscles tensed in pain and sweat gathered on his brow. It made Mustang's stomach twist uncomfortably, throat tight at the idea of the kid being in such obvious agony. He knew Edward was tough as nails and had a very high pain tolerance. He knew that Edward considered pain to be an unfortunate stepping stone to his goal but otherwise did not let it hinder any progress that needed to be made. He knew that Edward was not afraid of pain.

But it was still impossibly hard to see the kid suffer. Despite his annoying quirks and bad habits, his insubordination and stubbornness, Roy knew that Edward Elric was a good person. He saw value in all life no matter how twisted, and he was loyal to the end. He had a very acute sense of right and wrong and he was always willing to do the right thing, no matter the consequences. He loved his family with every piece of his being, and even though Edward complained and glowered, Roy knew he felt that same loyalty towards his teammates as well.

He was the absolute last person who deserved to endure such misfortune.

Despite the uneasy feelings churning in his stomach, Roy knew he could not stay to watch over Edward personally. There was far too much work to be done and he was needed in the field to make sure that nothing slipped through the ranks and was missed. He could not afford to sit at Ed's bedside in such dire times.

So, he made an executive decision. He strode forward to the boy and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Edward stirred slightly, eyes open but glossy and hazed with fever. He didn't seem capable of quite making eye contact, but Roy would take what he could get.

"I'm going to send in Havoc, and he will remain with you until this blows over." Ed's brow furrowed slightly in confusion at his words, and Roy watched with trepidation as he tried to understand what was being said to him before ultimately giving up and closing his eyes again, succumbing to his exhaustion instead.

The colonel sighed and straightened up, tugging the kid's blanket back up around his shoulders and pushing the hair off his forehead before turning and exiting the room. He took the time to inform Breda of the new developments before he left, putting Edward's wellbeing in the hands of those who could better care for him.

The next time Edward awoke, he was greeted by the sight of the first lieutenant lounging by the window, unlit cigarette clamped between his teeth as he eyed the commotion of the streets below and the military police who were bustling about according to their orders as they tried to secure the hospital. The room was slowly being shrouded in an orange glare as the sun fell below the horizon, making shadows crawl up the wall and throw even the most innocent items into stark silhouettes. Havoc looked rumbled and tired, worn lines marking him under his eyes to show the many hours he'd gone without sleep. His uniform was dusty and creased, and there were dark splotches splattered faintly on his knees and breast.

"You look like hell." He murmured at the lieutenant, shifting under the sheets and trying to curl into a more comfortable position. His plans were almost immediately halted when a painful tug came from his chest and hand. One glance told him the ache came from an IV and some sort of tube that was buried under his ribs, taped thoroughly but extremely tender.

Havoc turned towards him quickly, apparently startled by Ed's comment. His eyes fell on the figure on the bed before his face twisted into some sort of sad smile despite his snarky tone. "You're one to talk. Thought you were dead at first glance." He meandered closer, blue eyes taking him in.

Ed snorted on instinct, but didn't really have the energy or focus to keep up conversation. His brain wasn't working right. His thoughts were coming far too slowly, and nothing was connecting the way he thought it probably should me. He had almost no memory of what the hell had happened apart from a brutal fight with some drug dealers... however many days ago now. He felt sticky and gross, covered in cold sweat despite the warm blankets he was buried under. His toes felt numb and he could feel vomit threatening at the back of his throat.

"Where's Al?" He asked. If Alphonse was there his situation would improve dramatically, if nothing else simply because he appreciated Al's company and comfort. He wanted to see him.

"Still on the way. They're having really heavy rains in the south right now, and a few trains have been stopped due to flooding. I think he was going to walk, but your teacher stopped him or something. He has to wait for the trains to get back into working order." Havoc felt bad as he watched Edward's face fall dejected, mood squashed and loneliness amplified. He forgot sometimes that the brothers were practically attached at the hip. They got desolate without each other. Before he could cheer him up Ed was speaking again.

"What about the Colonel?"

"I'm starting to think you don't want to see me Ed." Havoc teased, smiling as a faint blush crept up the kid's neck, improving his pallor some. "He's out with Hughes in the field right now, hunting down the Triades. Things have... escalated some since the last time you were awake." He expected Edward to ask about it, nosy as he was; he hated being out of the loop on anything. Instead, Ed's frown grew and he settled back into the pillows, shifting to a more comfortable position.

Edward wondered vaguely how long he had been asleep because the taste in his mouth was absolutely horrendous, a mixture of morning breath, blood, and vomit all mixed into one disgusting combination. He ran his tongue over the film covering his teeth, and he must have made some sort of face because soon Havoc was chuckling and pulling up a chair to the bed where he promptly plopped down and leaned back.

"Need a toothbrush?" He asked around his cigarette. At Edward's nod he reached into a drawer on the bedside table, digging around in it for a moment before producing a toothbrush and a small basin. He started to hand it over before he saw the look on the kid's face. He looked uneasy and his breathing was picking up, his skin tinted green around the edges. Recognizing the look instantly, he abandoned his goodies and snatched up a far larger basin and shoved it under Ed's chin just as his back spasmed and he hiccuped up a mouthful of vomit.

After several minutes of gagging, Edward's hiccups calmed and his breathing slowed some. His face was wet from sweat and snot, but he swiped his flesh hand across his skin to wipe off the vomit, IV taped into his hand catching on his lip as he did so. The ache in his chest had exploded into a destructive fire at the spell, and he squeezed his eyes shut as wave after wave of nauseating pain swept over him, his automail coming up to rest on his collarbone.

Havoc frowned in concern before going to the bathroom and dumping out the vomit, noting the red tinge before he flushed it away. He dug out a towel and ran it under cold water before returning to Ed.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
